04 30 07 Who's Dead?
I have lived with the spirits of dead people for a long time now. By the way that the Community is organized we have settled upon the name "ethereal" to describe their state
of existence, but "ghost" or "spirit" would do as well. Since most of them are human beings who have passed on within recorded history, I suppose "ghost" would be the
appropriate word but a lot of them resent the word. As their bodies are composed of an ethereal kind of light "ethereal" seems a natural. There are a few "famous" people
among us here: Joan of Arc, William Blake, Friedrich Nietzsche. Whether you believe that is immaterial, whether they really are who they say they are is as well. They live and
work with the rest of us as who they are. The majority of ethereal people here are ordinary folks. Tua Tipala was a fisherman, as well as Ilewe Jones. Irlene Davis was a ten
year old girl on her way to school when she was killed by a motorcycle. Sara Jane van Beeuwelan was eleven when she died of he cholera in 1382. Terrence Ausweiler was
a Prussian soldier who died in the Napoleanic wars in 1806. Shifa was also eleven when she died in Bergen-Belsen. Surfer Fred Logan, our Minister of Cool, was by his own
words a beach bum living in Malibu in 1976 when he caught his last wave while surfing.
The history of psychic research as chronicled by the various Societies for Psychical Research across the world have records of trance mediums who have passed on words
of people who have died, many of them unknown to the world. Occasionally researchers will attempt to establish the veracity of these claims by looking up records within
the cities mentioned by the entity, and their findings are usually a knot of error and proof. Some claims are just plain wrong; others are partly right and some are dead on.
(Little joke there) We do not pursue such things here; the one time and person for whom we did any digging was for Irlene Davis; some of her claims have been verified and
some have not. We generally feel that it's a waste of our time as we are quite busy as a Community.
Being dead is something which they hardly notice any more. For one thing, I have accepted them as who they are from day one. I have never been frightened by them either
and I believe this may have something to do with my being aware of them at all. There is just nothing in me which says "this can't be!" For all of my life I have had a sincere if
naive belief in the notion that the dead can interact with the living; it just took a long time for me to become aware of them. But their personalities are intact and they most
definitely do not share my traits. William Blake, for example, seems quiet and reserved until you get him talking. Then the poet emerges and his language becomes quite
colorful. He is very passionate as well about art. His humor is often quite subtle, you wonder what the deuce he has just said and then begin laughing. But many of these
"dead people" are quite lively. They are busy, doing either what they did in life or doing the things that they wish they had done while alive. I began this paragraph by writing
that "being dead is something which they hardly notice anymore." I will close it by saying that their being dead is something that I hardly notice any more.
As someone who has learned and now teaches telepathy to others I have had the joy of actually "talking" for brief periods with others. This is often an out-of-the-blue thing
where someone will suddenly appear in my mind's eye and ear and I have on a half-dozen occasions had the sense to say something to this mental appearnce. In every
instance it has turned out that the person has been asleep and has no memory of our conversation, although one person did report that they had dreamed vividly of me on
one occasion. It would be easy to dismiss these occurances as figments of my imagination but by my experience aa a telepath and channeler I cannot. People do not
remember dreams very often. Yet when we sleep, that is the time when our consciousness is likely to roam the world. Such a visit occured to me the other night.
The person with whom I believe I had contact is a very old friend, one with whom I had been in love many years ago. I can't say who she is. At that time in the past our lives
were not situated that we could pursue our attraction for each other - I was married. I had to let it go, hurtful as it was to me then. But we have stayed in occasional
contact over the years, and once in a while we'll visit. I haven't seen her in about eighteen months and her popping into my head at 10:30 at night - when I know that she's
asleep - took me by surprise. I made the attempt at "speaking" to her mentally and was delighted to get a response, but her response filled me with sorrow. She is
desparately unhappy with her life as it is and seemed to exude tears from every part of her being. A mutual acquaintance told me the next day that she really is unhappy.
But in our brief interlude I told her that she did not have to suffer and showed her in emotional and mental imagery what I have been doing these last five years, showed
her that I had finally risen above the destructive forces I carry within me. I offered to help her and extended my ethereal hand - an out - of - body thing - and she just stared
at it. I grabbed at her hand and took it and told her, "this is for real!" Then our contact, our link faded. I yelled to her to call me, to e-mail me.
The call has not come and neither has the e-mail - yet. I will call her later today. But in the interim it got me to wondering, who is dead and who is alive?
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